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Legends of Charlemagne by Thomas Bulfinch
page 107 of 402 (26%)
spoke in this manner: "O knight, if the tenderness of your heart
corresponds to the beauty of your person, relieve me, I pray you,
from this tormenting animal. I suffer enough inwardly without
having outward evils added to my lot."

Rogero, at the first accents of this voice, turned his eyes
promptly on the myrtle, hastened to it, and stood fixed in
astonishment when he perceived that the voice issued from the tree
itself. He immediately untied his horse, and, flushed with
surprise and regret, exclaimed, "Whoever thou art, whether mortal
or the goddess of these woods, forgive me, I beseech you, my
involuntary fault. Had I imagined that this hard bark covered a
being possessed of feeling, could I have exposed such a beautiful
myrtle to the insults of this steed? May the sweet influences of
the sky and air speedily repair the injury I have done! For my
part, I promise by the sovereign lady of my heart to do everything
you wish in order to merit your forgiveness."

At these words the myrtle seemed to tremble from root to stem, and
Rogero remarked that a moisture as of tears trickled down its
bark, like that which exudes from a log placed on the fire. It
then spoke:

"The kindness which inspires your words compels me to disclose to
you who I once was, and by what fatality I have been changed into
this shape. My name was Astolpho, cousin of Orlando and Rinaldo,
whose fame has filled the earth. I was myself reckoned among the
bravest paladins of France, and was by birth entitled to reign
over England, after Otho, my father. Returning from the distant
East, with Rinaldo and many other brave knights, called home to
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